


rub me the right way

by growlery



Series: Summer Pornathon 2014 [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: summerpornathon, Con Artists, Desk Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Possessive Behavior, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tristan and Isolde are running a con on Uther Pendragon, and Isolde's ready to do anything to make sure they get his money.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rub me the right way

**Author's Note:**

> for summerpornathon, challenge #4: tropesmash! the tropes I picked were mirrors, possessive behaviour and exhibitionism, and since I can't do exhibitionism without voyeurism, apparently, there's a healthy dose of that too. the non-con tag refers to the voyeurism, since Uther's unaware that Tristan's watching. and yeah, the title's from genie in a bottle. IT FITS, OKAY

"Where the fuck is Pendragon?" Isolde mutters after yet another glance at the clock. "I'm starting to think he's not going to show up."

"He will." Tristan's voice in her ear is as soothing as it always is. "He took the bait. You got him _very_ interested."

She glances at the portrait behind the desk where she knows he's got a camera set up. There's one in the mirror opposite, too, and knowing Tristan, probably a few somewhere on the ceiling. 

"Jealous?"

"No," Tristan says, too quickly.

"So you won't mind if I have to resort to... alternative measures to close the deal."

"You've done it before," Tristan says. "If it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother me."

Isolde just leans against the desk, smirking. 

When Uther finally arrives, she's pulled herself up to sit beside the cheque, shirt unbuttoned halfway down, legs spread as far as her pencil skirt will allow.

"You're late," she says, voice low, and Uther slowly drags his gaze up to her face.

"I was checking your credentials," he says. "I had to be sure I was making a good investment."

"And are you?"

Uther puts his briefcase down by the desk, straightening up slowly in front of her.

"I could stand a little more convincing," he says, and Isolde hides her smile when that makes Tristan growl. 

*

The first surprising thing is when Uther skims his hands up her thighs and tugs her knickers down over her - literally killer - heels, he stays on his knees. 

The second surprising thing is the noise Tristan makes when Uther buries his face in her cunt. 

"Yeah?" she breathes, quiet enough that Uther won't hear. 

"Yeah," Tristan says, just as quietly. 

Isolde arches up to better angle herself in front of the mirror, in front of Tristan, but all that really accomplishes is her hips rocking against Uther's face in a way that makes her shudder and him groan and her shudder all over again. She throws her head back, knowing Tristan will see, and lets herself moan a little more than is strictly natural. 

"Was that really necessary?" Tristan demands and Isolde groans out, " _Yes_ ," not even bothering to hide it, this time. The thing is, Uther is _good_ , nosing at her folds and licking in agonisingly steady strokes, but it's not just his clever tongue leaving her weak and tingling. Tristan's breath is coming in sharp, uneven bursts in her ear, and it's like he's right there with her as someone else fucks her senseless. 

Uther looks up, smiling so broad Isolde can see it, and with one final suck at her clit, pulls away. Isolde moans, her legs shaking at the loss, and Uther stands to fit their mouths together, the taste of her still raw in his mouth. He's got her crowded against the desk, his dick pressing hard against her through his trousers, and she takes a few deep breaths to recover herself. 

"Not convinced, then?" she says, remembering the cheque still sitting beside her, crumpled slightly under her palm. 

"Not quite," Uther murmurs, "though you do make a good case."

"I suppose I'll have to drive it home some other way," Isolde says, holding Uther's gaze as she goes for his belt and starts to undo it. 

"That was terrible," Tristan tells her, "absolutely god-fucking-awful, I can't _believe_ -"

He breaks off with a wounded noise when she slips down from the desk and turns to press back against Uther. 

"Are these terms more appealing?" she asks, flicking her gaze towards the other camera. She guides Uther's cock to her dripping cunt and grinds onto him, slowly, smirking when Uther moans in one ear and Tristan curses in the other. 

"I think," Uther says, thrusting forward, "we will definitely," another thrust, "come," and again, "to an agreement."

He grips her hips hard enough to leave bruises, and Isolde nearly loses herself thinking about Tristan finding them later and pressing his fingers into them. She meets Uther on every thrust, until his once perfect rhythm stutters and he groans out the fake name she had given him. 

"The cheque?" Isolde says, when Uther's sagged back against the desk. 

"You are truly a remarkable woman," he says, chuckling, but he takes the pen she holds out. "I look forward to working with you again soon."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Tristan mutters, and Isolde just laughs.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Still Like Muffled Drums](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470559) by [teprometo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teprometo/pseuds/teprometo)




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